


The Wrong Equation

by teamcap4bucky



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 16:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamcap4bucky/pseuds/teamcap4bucky
Summary: No matter how you add it up, at the end of the day, you and Clint were never the right answer.





	The Wrong Equation

“Well, that was a little much, don’t you think?” Clint watches as you open the window and angrily toss the bouquet of flowers, watching as they fall three floors to the backyard.

“No, I’ll tell you what was a little much. This, us, you, me, it’s just …ugh!!” Making fists, squeezing your eyes closed, you turn to the kitchen, grabbing plate after plate of his favorite meal, with desserts, making sure to slam them, plates included into the garbage. “I don’t know why I even try anymore.”

“Awe, come on babe. It wasn’t on purpose. Steve was rambling on, the debrief…”

“It’s always something with you, Clint! Today it was Steve, last week you got the dates confused, the week before that...you just fucking forgot me all together. Which, don’t get me wrong, I loved the movie, and the quiet time to myself was great, but not for you, because it gave me a lot of time to think.” He listens, watching you aggressively cleaning up the kitchen, throwing silverware into the sink, grinding leftover remnants of items down the disposal, making sure to turn it on very time he spoke, so as not to hear his continuing bullshit.

“What are you saying? Think about what? Y/N, I fuck up sometimes. You knew this going in to this relationship. I fuck up, you fuck up, that’s why this was going to be so easy for us. We both suck at relationships, so we made it clear, we screw up, but we make it work with each other, right? We stay damaged, but together, that was our deal!

“Yeah, but that was before!” You yell out, waving your arm around the apartment, that for some ridiculous reason, you two had decided would be a good idea to move into together.

“Before what?” He yells back, just as flustered.

“Before I fell in love with you dunce! Before we moved in together, and decided, because we are apparently bat shit crazy, that this would work, that this could actually fucking work!”

“It is working!” He throws his head back, leaning into the countertop.

“For you maybe! You’re never the one left behind, or forgotten about.”

“You were never forgotten about!” He slides his hands over his face, running them back through his hair, tensing them outwards as he yells back at you.

“Clint, when I came home from the movie you were sitting on the couch with Bucky and Sam playing video games.” Now crossing your arms, you lean against the other side of the counter across from him. “You forgot…”

“How can I honestly forget that day? Tony is still pissed that he’s finding popcorn in the couch.”

You place your hands over your eyes, the darkness giving you a second of peace, to collect your thoughts, and give you the strength to push on. “How many times has it come to this?” Whispering a little, your eyes begin to flood.

“You knew I was never good at math, don’t test me.” He smirks a little trying to make light of the situation, hoping if he can just get you to smile for a second, you won’t end this.

“One year of dating, and one year of a ‘so called’ relationship. Two years of drama for us.” You pause for a moment, hoping he’ll say something, anything, to make you think twice about walking out that door.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

“For what, Clint? You plead, begging for him to give you a heartfelt reason, just once. Please just let him say one thing, one sane thing to let you know that this whole shitstorm of a relationship wasn’t a waste of your time.

“For being late.” He watches your face shift from sadness, to question.

“No…”

“For missing our date that day.” He responds to you hoping that was the answer you were looking for.

“Nope.” You skip over annoyance and head straight for anger.

“For screwing up all the time.” He feels confident with that answer, but again, it was wrong.

Huffing out a short breath, you shake your head, stunned thinking that he honestly can’t be this dense. “You don’t appreciate me, and you never will. I can’t do this anymore. I thought I could, but I just… I’ve taken one two many of your arrows to my heart. There is nothing left of it for Cupid to fix.” A tear trails down your cheek, and he knows this is it. He can’t stop you. You were both fuck ups, but he took being an idiot to a level that you couldn’t compete with.

You grab your phone, and head towards the door. There was nothing left to say at this point, and you knew even if he could come up with a good enough response to get you to stay, that you would be repeating this fight in another month. This relationship was exhausting. It was toxic, and you needed to run, to rescue any piece of you that was still worth saving, before he drained the life from you. He stalks up behind you, reaching for your arm as you stretch to open the door, holding it like it was his life preserver, fearing that if he was to let go, he would drown.

“Y/N, please, I’ll try harder, I’ll be better.” You choke back your tears, shaking your head no. You can’t look at him, you won’t. You have to be strong, stronger than you have ever been. You were done, and you needed to get off this depressing carousel. “You’re the only one who has ever taken the time with me. I need you...I love you. Please, don’t walk out that door.” He rests his forehead against yours, his face contorting, trying not to sob with you. His grip around your head was tight, his skin so hard against yours, almost as if he was trying to pass his good intentions into you, so that you could see what you meant to him, see that he truly would give you everything if he could just get his shit together. “I just need some more time, please, baby...please.”

“I’m leaving, Clint. You’re a free man. You have all the time in the world now.” You turn, but he grasps you one more time.

“Please…don’t...” His eye lashes dusted with tears and sadness, his chest huffing in between breaths. “Come on, Y/N/N. It’s us, you and me, one and one, it’s us two.”

“Sometimes you have to learn the hard way, Clint. When it comes to me and you, one plus one doesn’t always equal two.”


End file.
